


Artistic Liberties

by SakeBottle



Category: Ookami to Koushinryou | Spice and Wolf
Genre: Desperation, F/M, Nude Modeling, Nudity, Omorashi, POV Female Character, POV Third Person Limited, Urination
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:16:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27491803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SakeBottle/pseuds/SakeBottle
Summary: Lawrence decides to take a crack at selling portraits, and after only a little bit of convincing Holo is all too willing to help out.The only problem being that posing for even a sketch takes a while, and it's been unseasonably hot lately...But Holo agreed to do it, and she's not going to let a little overhydration make her go back on an agreement.
Kudos: 4





	Artistic Liberties

**Author's Note:**

> Commission for daveshuyi.

“Drawing again?” Holo entered the room with a fresh drink in hand, finding Lawrence hunched over the one available desk and scrawling something on paper. “Honestly,” she said as she tossed her cloak aside and took a seat at the edge of one of the beds. “You will only disappoint yourself with all of these sketches; what will you do when the shop you want so much is not attainable as you imagined it?”

The silver-haired merchant straightened up in his seat and looked over his shoulder. “Actually, these are experiments.” He gestured to a handful of discarded sketches. “There are plenty of people in this town who are willing to pay large sums for art, and since the investment into equipment is quite small in comparison-“

“- You think you can make some healthy profit making art of your own.” Holo interrupted to finish the sentence herself. “Well,” she said before taking a sip of her drink. “Perhaps someone out there wishes to buy your imaginary storefronts.” Her tail playfully swished around behind her. “Or perhaps not. It is good that your investment was small, because I do not expect you will make as much in return as you hope for.”

“Actually,” Lawrence said as he put a hand to his chin. “I think I can create something unique enough to make at least a modest profit.”

“Is that so? What might that be?”

Lawrence turned his chair around to face Holo. “I spent some time thinking about it, and I came up with the idea of selling art of _you_.” He pointed to Holo as he spoke. “People like to buy portraits of interesting or important people. A portrait of someone with a wolf’s tail and ears would certainly be considered interesting.”

Holo raised an eyebrow while she worked on her drink some more. “That is quite the risky venture, is it not? You yourself explained the consequences of my becoming known to the Church in particular.”

“I have considered that.” Lawrence raised a hand to stroke his wispy beard. “But artists exaggerate features and add things that were never there all the time. Nobody would question the inclusion of wolf features in a portrait.”

“You cannot be certain of that.”

“I know, and I also considered how to explain it if anyone should ask.” The merchant stood up and cleared his throat. “Where did I get the inspiration for this piece? Well, I’m a travelling merchant, and as part of going to wherever there is money to be made, I have journeyed to many far-away places. I once bought wheat at a remote pagan village where the locals told me of their god of harvests.”

He took a breath to keep speaking, but Holo stood up and interrupted him. “Oh, I see… And then based upon her description, you thought her to be so beautiful, especially her immaculate tail, that you simply could not resist creating your own vision of her.” She sat back down and took another swig of her drink. “How convenient it is, then, that you were already accompanied by someone whose features could compare to the deity of your dreams, would you not agree?”

“Convenient indeed.” Lawrence nodded and returned to his chair. “Though I would have worded it a little differently.” With a red face he cleared his throat and continued. “Anyways, the main concern is that such artwork might be called heresy – so we could say it represents some legendary figure instead. After all, what good are stories of local heroes without exaggerated or outright fabricated qualities, right?”

Holo sat drinking quietly for a moment, both to enjoy the alcohol itself and to get some time to think. Finally, peering into her mug to gauge its emptiness, she responded. “Yes, I suppose that does make sense. And, after giving it some thought…” She paused to take another little sip. “… I also suppose it would not be very sensible for one to assume that the subject of this art you want to make does truly have the depicted features. Not for something so… novel.”

“So I would hope, at least.” The words were followed by the sound of a quick scribbling onto paper, then that of things being set down and put away. “It _is_ only an idea, though. If it does turn out to be too dangerous, then... Well, it’s still good practice, and it couldn’t hurt to have some interesting art we can keep for ourselves.”

“Perhaps.” Holo downed whatever was left of her drink, setting the empty cup aside afterwards. “Well, I think it to be worth trying, at least. But only if you give me something in return.”

Lawrence rolled his eyes and sighed. “What is it you want?”

“Hm…” Holo folded her arms while her tail waved as if blown by a gentle breeze. “I have yet to decide. But now you know that you cannot refuse the next request I make of you.”

“As if you ever take no for an answer anyways.”

“Perhaps I am simply very persuasive.” Pushing herself off of the bed, Holo took a moment to stretch herself out before saying anything more. “Or perhaps you are too easy to manipulate. Regardless… Shall we begin?”

Lawrence looked over his shoulder. “What, now?” While he swiftly organized his art supplies, he continued, “Fine, just give me one minute to set everything up.” Once everything on the desk was in order, he got up and retrieved a stool from some far corner of the room, setting it down near his own seat. “Just sit there and make yourself look… let’s say regal, whenever you’re ready.”

With a nod, Holo replied, “There is but one thing I must do.” As soon as she was done speaking, she grabbed he hem of her shirt with both hands, pulling the article over her head and dropping it to the floor; and with her tail swaying, she bent over to lower her pants as well.

“Wait… What…?” Lawrence looked over in her general direction with a red face.

“You are to draw a portrait of a woman,” she responded bluntly, stepping out of her pants and approaching the stool with her hair conveniently hiding the details of her chest – though everything else remained perfectly clear. “And it is my understanding that the tradition when doing so is to depict the natural female form, is it not?”

“Well…”

“’tis hot in here anyways,” Holo added as she dropped herself onto the stool. “And those clothes were becoming a nuisance.” Then she started shifting around to find the ideal pose.

The merchant put a hand to his chin. “Yeah, it is rather warm in here…” Then he turned and headed for the room’s door. “You just find a comfortable position while I go get something for you to drink while we work.”

One of Holo’s ears twitched in acknowledgement, but she didn’t say anything while she kept adjusting herself, trying different positions for a few seconds each before deciding she wanted something else. Nothing seemed quite right, and the heat certainly wasn’t making it any easier to get comfortable. Shedding her clothes had helped her to tolerate the warm air, and for now would keep her at an acceptable temperature; drinks would certainly help with that.

And by the time Lawrence returned with some, Holo had maneuvered herself into a pose she was satisfied with – one leg over the other, hands on her knees, head turned to look out the window, all while her tail idly hung off the edge of the stool. She had been slouching, but straightened up when she heard the door open.

“Alright, this should be good enough,” Lawrence said as he stepped into the room and shut the door behind him, in his hands a tray bearing a pitcher and two cups. As he approached, he added, “And it looks like you’re all set.”

Holo only turned away from the window when the tray was set down, and even then she only moved enough to glance at the contents of the pitcher while Lawrence took his seat and filled the cups. “That is not alcoholic,” she pointed out with a quick sniff.

“No, of course not.” Lawrence took a sip from his own cup, then leaned back in his chair and started sorting out his drawing equipment. “It’s just water. Alcohol would only make you warmer.”

“How disappointing.” Despite her comment, Holo leaned over to drink a little herself. “But sacrifices must be made, I suppose.” After she set down her drink and got back into position, she added, “You may begin at any time.”

“Are you sure you’re ready? This is going to take a while.”

“I am posed as I would like to be, and appropriately undressed. I have no further preparations to make. Proceed.”

With a sigh, Lawrence shook his head and quietly picked up his equipment to prepare for sketching. First he simply looked at Holo for a while, leaning one way or another and shifting around, all the while pensively humming throughout his search for a workable perspective.

Holo, meanwhile, maintained her position, saying nothing and merely staring out the window and watching the movements of people in the streets below. The sun was just starting to fall, and since there were still several hours of daylight left nobody seemed to be in any particular hurry, but even so there was plenty of activity with roadside vendors trying to take advantage of those seeking a quick lunch. Perhaps some other time she might have been among them, pestering Lawrence for some exotic snack that she deserved for whatever reason she could come up with.

But not today. Holo had never intended to actually do very much, instead planning on using the day to rest and recover from the almost non-stop travelling of the past week – and that plan had worked out very well so far. She had woken up quite a bit later in the morning than normal, enjoyed a hearty breakfast at the inn, then spent the remaining hours until lunchtime pestering Lawrence with whatever came to mind before eventually convincing him to buy the two of them a meal large and expensive enough to satisfy her appetite. And now, having only recently finished what drinks remained from her lunchtime indulgence, Holo had to do nothing more than sit still for a while.

And when she finally heard the sound of charcoal rubbing on paper, Holo realized that Lawrence had neglected to explain to her the length of this modelling session. Without moving from her pose, she asked, “How much time do you expect you will need to complete this portrait, exactly?”

“A few hours, I think.” The response only interrupted the sketching for a moment while Lawrence processed the question and his answer. “The detailing will take quite a while, and if I want to get it right I would need you to stay there the whole time.” Then the rubbing of charcoal stopped, and the room was silent until Lawrence spoke again shortly thereafter. “Though, I would like to have more than just the one, so I’ll try to be quick.”

“We shall see,” Holo replied with a slight nod to confirm she had been listening, before returning to her pose and her quiet stare out at some undetermined point in the streets below. So far, she was doing a good job of it – most of her body wouldn’t move much more than the occasional twitch or tiny shuffle to keep her position comfortable. Only her tail and ears moved to any significant degree, with her tail gently swaying around without purpose and her ears flicking in response to the weak summer breeze that would sometimes find its way through the window.

Nowhere near often enough for Holo’s comfort, though. She had chosen a particularly formal and hard-to-maintain pose, and without frequent wind the hot stale air of the inn room only got harder to tolerate as time dragged on. The supply of water was helpful, of course, though terribly boring for someone who was perfectly capable of passing the time binge-drinking whatever alcohol was in the general area. Alas, she had none at hand, and while the reasoning was solid there was no changing the fact that spending an extended period of time sober and doing nothing was far from her idea of fun.

At the very least she had the various things happening on the streets to keep her attention. Not particularly _interesting_ , but enough to make it so that she could keep herself from distracting Lawrence with attempts at conversation or random inquiries. Instead, Holo simply watched the people outside, occasionally running a hand across her forehead to clear away what sweat was starting to appear thanks to the power of the afternoon sun, typically around the same time as she would lean over to get herself some more water.

Only, after a mere couple of hours sitting still, Holo’s drinks were starting to catch up with her. More the alcohol from before than the water she had just set down yet again, but even so she was now feeling a weak twinge in her lower abdomen from a need that she had last dealt with upon waking.

But rather than speak up and excuse herself, Holo remained seated quietly, shifting only slightly to push the new discomfort from her mind. She was the Wise Wolf, after all; she could handle a little bit of pressure. It was only a mild inconvenience, and she would certainly be able to see this portraiture experiment through to the end.

There were more important things to worry about anyways – the heat, for one. It had been unusually warm all week, even for summer, and Holo especially was feeling the effects. Being more familiar with the climate of the far north, and having chosen such a frail human body, she was hardly in any position to resist the effects of this heat wave. And of course she couldn’t turn down well-needed refreshing drinks, even if they weren’t exactly what she would have preferred.

If only she _did_ have alcohol at hand… Being even a little drunk would at least make sitting still for hours somewhat fun. There was only so much entertainment to derive from watching people wander around outdoors, after all.

Fortunately, Holo’s attention was dragged elsewhere when the sound of sketching stopped and Lawrence cleared his throat. “Okay,” he said, “I think this is a good enough start.” Holding the paper up so that Holo could see it, he added, “What do you think of it?”

As far as she could tell, the sketch was about the quality she would expect from her merchant companion – it at least looked like what it was supposed to, thanks to Lawrence’s existing artistic skills, but his lack of experience with drawing human-like forms was evident in the simplistic style of the sketch as a whole. “’tis lacking in detail,” Holo said, glancing over without abandoning her pose. “I can see the resemblance, but only just.”

“Right. That’s something to work on, but at least it’s headed in the right direction.” Lawrence set the portrait-in-progress down, then picked up the water jug and swirled it around. The sound brought that little bit of pressure back to the front of Holo’s mind, but with only a brief wiggle she was able to suppress it once more while Lawrence spoke. “Hm, I should go get this refilled,” he said as he stood up. “I’ll only be a minute.”

Holo didn’t turn to watch him leave, instead only slouching a little for just a moment of rest while she returned to watching what was happening outdoors. Still plenty of people in the streets, going about their business as they had been doing all day. Holo gave a quiet chuckle, smirking as she considered the people she was watching, for none of them seemed to be of the art-collecting persuasion. Perhaps there was someone somewhere who would gladly throw his money away on pictures to hang on his wall and never really look at, but there was no indication that any of the people Holo was watching had that sort of disposable income.

Lawrence just didn’t want to admit that he wanted a portrait of her for himself. Why, she couldn’t quite figure out, since she was constantly at his side anyways, but the story he had invented was amusing enough and the prospect of being _properly_ depicted in art appealing enough for her to go along with it. At the very least her cooperation would leave him with a means to remember their time together should they ever part, but…

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of Lawrence returning to the room and taking his seat again, setting a freshly-filled jug of water down as he did so. “Right,” he said, picking up his tools again and making himself comfortable. “Let’s just get right back to it, hm?”

Holo nodded quietly and straightened up again, shifting around to find some comfort despite the heat while trying not to break her pose. When the sounds of sketching resumed, she sighed and focused herself on the dreadfully-boring task of staring out the window and sitting still. For some time nobody said anything, until Holo grew tired of the silence and, after another drink, spoke up.

“Might I ask why this is not a painting?” She turned her head only enough to have Lawrence in her field of vision. “Paint, as I understand it, is the preferred medium for portraits, is it not?”

“It is.” Lawrence looked up from his paper for a moment, examined Holo’s shape, and resumed drawing while he spoke. “But to be entirely honest, I’m not that good with paint. It’s much more expensive and I’ve never really had the time to learn how to use it properly. I’d much rather spend that money on-“

“On me, of course. Your generosity is appreciated.” Holo started laughing, but restrained herself so as to not move too much.

With a little chuckle, Lawrence replied, “Yeah, I’m sure it is. That’s a lot of money I’m never going to see again, after all.” After briefly pausing his sketching to think, he added, “You know, you have very high upkeep costs.”

“I have very high _standards_ ,” Holo corrected. “And even so, I have not once forced you to buy anything you could not afford.”

“You’ve come quite close, though.”

Holo scoffed in response. “And yet,” she said, “You have more than enough money to stay locked up in an inn all day drawing rather than working.”

“True,” Lawrence said with a nod. “But that doesn’t mean I’ve got enough that I don’t still need more. So whatever that request of yours is going to be, could you try to make it reasonably priced?”

“I shall make no such promise.”

“Of course not.”

Then they were quiet again, and while Holo waited for the portrait to be completed, the tip of her tail twitched and she shifted in her seat. The near-unnoticeable discomfort from earlier had become a clear pressure as her bladder filled with the drinks she wouldn’t stop adding to her system.

Even when she recognized the feeling, Holo still leaned over to get herself more water. It was no more than a mild urge to urinate; nothing she couldn’t handle. She didn’t want to interrupt the drawing process anyways, and so committed herself to simply waiting until it was over. All she had to do was sit still and occasionally drink a little water – far from a challenge for the Wise Wolf.

It _would_ be far from comfortable, though. The heat and the strain from holding her pose were enough to make her sweat, and as minute after minute passed the feeling in her bladder only intensified. But comfortable or not, she would persevere. She would even keep drinking, the slight relief from the heat more than making up for any other undesirable effects – it would only be another couple of hours at most, after all, so it wasn’t worth worrying about.

Some sort of distraction would certainly have been useful, though. The view from the window was now annoying more than anything else; nothing interesting was happening out there, and it didn’t seem like anything would any time soon. So Holo’s only source of stimulation was the gentle swinging of one foot and the swaying of her tail while the rest of her stayed still.

‘ _Will he never tire of this?_ ’ With a subtle glance at Lawrence, Holo quietly grumbled to herself as she complained in her own head. ‘ _Surely he must stop sometime. This water is becoming rather annoying._ ’ With an annoyed huff, her thoughts continued, ‘ _But there is no need to interrupt for the moment. He will take note eventually, and then I shall deal with it._ ’

At the very least, she did try to ease up on the drinking from then on – not that it would ever _really_ have been a problem for her anyways, but Holo figured it would be wise to exercise a bit of caution anyways. With the heat and boredom already weighing on her, she didn’t need to add any more problems that would just make her wait even more annoying.

With a deep sigh, Holo shut her eyes for a moment and tried to bring her mind elsewhere. Anywhere else, so long as it provided an escape from the monotony. She tried to occupy herself with memories of prior adventures and schemes, reminiscing over what had brought her to this point. For a while, it worked, and her focus on the past very briefly pushed the worries of the present from her mind; but they were forced back when a sudden shock pulsed through her bladder, forcing her to pay attention and squeeze her legs tighter together as subtly as she could.

A glance over at Lawrence showed that he didn’t intend to stop any time soon. With one leg swinging and her tail end shifting ever so slightly in her seat, Holo quietly groaned and turned her head properly to address him.

“Must I really remain here like this the entire time?”

“Ideally, yes,” Lawrence said, just slightly looking up at Holo for a moment. “I’m sure it’s quite boring to just sit and do nothing for so long, but it’s only going to be a little bit longer.”

“Hmph. If you say so.” With that, Holo turned back to her original pose, her subtle fidgeting ongoing. There would certainly not be any reason to interrupt if the portrait was nearly complete, after all, so she could handle the pressure until then. Even the heat would be tolerable if it was only going to be a short wait – provided she didn’t neglect the water she had available, anyways.

And why would she need to do that? Sure, she was _slightly_ bothered by the effects of just how much of it had gone into her, but Holo was _extremely_ well-versed in the art of drinking. A little bit of _water_ certainly wasn’t going to get the better of her when she could spend hours getting drunk and still come out on top afterwards.

No, she would be fine. And, at any rate, with how long she’d already been sitting there posing for this little project, the only thing that made sense was to see it through to completion, so she didn’t have very much of a choice in the matter. If Lawrence were to decide that now was a good time for a break, she would certainly agree, but ultimately that was his decision alone – and by now he was likely to agree with her that a break so close to the end wasn’t really necessary. Not to mention that taking a break would mean Holo would have to find the pose again when she sat back down, since Lawrence had not yet made any indication that he no longer needed the reference; and Holo wasn’t sure she would be able to replicate it exactly, so the wise choice would be to continue holding the pose, since she already had herself positioned correctly.

On second thought, maybe tensing up a little bit would be a better idea… She was quiet about it, taking a deep breath and trying not to draw any more attention to herself than was necessary, but the fact remained that there was just a little bit of moisture on her seat now. Her tail jerked in annoyance for a moment, not so much because Lawrence was taking so long, but rather because Holo herself was disappointed in her body for doing such a thing… because Lawrence was taking so long.

And yet she still made no effort to demand a pause to this artistry of his – she undeniably needed to relieve herself, but that little leak only served to paradoxically reinforce her certainty that she could wait until the end. She _had_ to. Someone of her stature would surely be able to handle a situation like the one Holo found herself in now. She could have taken a break at any point earlier, anyways, and because she had not, she would need to deal with the consequences. It was nearly over, at least, so that wouldn’t be _too_ difficult.

Very uncomfortable, perhaps, but not difficult. Certainly not easy either, though, considering the heat that had caused all these problems in the first place was _still_ driving Holo to take a sip of water every so often – only a little bit at a time, so as to carefully balance fighting off the more dangerous effects of the heat with the various effects of adding more to her liquid burden.

But with her legs squeezed together as tightly as possible, one of them shaking, and her seat already damp from more than just sweat, that wasn’t going to be a pleasant balance. Loath as she was to admit it, the heat was the least of her problems at the moment, and the fact that she had decided that this ought to be a nude portrait was of only superficial aid. Not needing to sit in slightly-wet clothes didn’t help at all when there was a puddle under her anyways.

Again the thought occurred to her that there was nothing preventing her from taking a break whenever she wanted – nothing except the fact that she had so far refused to do so, and had insisted at the start that she was fully prepared; such an insistence naturally came with the implication that she was prepared to go through the _entire_ procedure without complaint. Holo had made the commitment, and it wouldn’t look very good at all to go back on her word. She’d certainly been wrong in the past, now and again, but admitting to misremembering some detail or misjudging a situation was to be expected of everyone – someone wise enough to recognize when she was wrong would know that better than anyone else. Being unable to see through something to which she had committed herself was more than just that, and Holo couldn’t allow such a failure.

Whether her body would agree remained to be seen. That first leak and the little puddle it formed on Holo’s seat were making it _very_ tempting to finish what she had already started. For now she was doing well enough resisting the temptation, but… maybe she could get away with just a little bit…? Her seat was already wet, after all, so what difference would a few more drops really make? Any moisture could easily be passed off as sweat, anyways – provided there wasn’t too much of it, and Holo really was as hydrated as she felt. Maybe that would help, if only very slightly.

Before she could decide whether doing something like that would be worth it, her body made the choice for her, and Holo let out a heavy breath as a weak trickle expanded the little puddle she was sitting in. It only lasted for a moment, and when it ended Holo squirmed as discreetly as possible. The pressure within was building – moreso now that she had leaked twice already – but she couldn’t make a fool of herself by letting it take over, even if the weight of her slightly-distended bladder very much wanted her to. Not yet. She only had to wait a little while longer.

Just a little longer. She could do that. She just had to focus on keeping everything locked down, and could easily pass off her deep breaths as a result of the heat. Holo would be fine, if she just paid attention to what needed to be done. That puddle beneath her would have to be enough to take the edge off until the portrait could be completed.

Of course, at this point she didn’t care about the portrait itself anymore – all of her energy and focus had to go to holding the rest of her urine while remaining relatively stationary and without the use of her hands. If only she had picked a different pose, she might have been able to…

‘ _No,_ ’ she told herself. ‘ _I am better than that. There is no need for such lowly behavior._ ’ After a slight adjustment to her position, her thoughts continued, ‘ _Or so I would hope._ ’

But her personal reassurances couldn’t change the facts – for as much as she would have liked to believe otherwise, her bladder was _full_ , and if she didn’t do something about it soon, it would resolve the situation itself. She let out a quiet whimper as it reminded her of that with another bout of dribbling. If this portraiture session didn’t end soon, Holo wouldn’t even be able to leave her seat before losing control.

And yet, she still made no effort to hasten the process – rather, she prepared herself for what might happen to her. What was _already_ happening to her, a twitch of her ear or tail accompanying the ever-more-frequent departure of a few drops from her bladder. She had made a commitment, and nothing was going to stop her from seeing it through. If she got her seat wet in the process… well, that was just a sign of dedication, wasn’t it?

Though she wouldn’t have _needed_ to be so dedicated if Lawrence had only taken note and offered her a break himself. For someone so focused to capturing her various details, he didn’t seem to be paying much attention to her. As a result, she sat in that same pose the whole time, feeling only more wet heat against the exposed skin of her lower half. The moisture so close to her most delicate parts only made proper release more alluring, but even so she still fought to maintain composure.

Holo was in the process of wetting herself, yes, but she could at least maintain some dignity while she did so – even with her body tensed and breathing heavy, she continued to hold that pose in spite of everything else going on. By now, she was leaking every few seconds, and it became less and less realistic to blame the moisture on sweat.

Indeed, Lawrence seemed to take notice at last, but not until it was too late. Holo heard him trying to find the right words just as a particularly-significant jet of urine broke free, this one inspiring her to stop fighting outright. Before he could say anything, she closed her eyes and sighed, _still_ maintaining her position despite the sound of hissing from between her legs, and soon after the trickling of fluid from her stool to the wooden floor below.

She felt no shame, only satisfaction and relief – she hadn’t been holding it for very long, by her own standards, but from the perspective of this fragile human form she had chosen, she had taken in and refused to release quite a lot of water. So even though nothing about this situation wouldn’t normally be particularly exceptional in Holo’s mind, she was still a little proud of this body for resisting as well as it had. Her tail was even wagging gently as she peed, all of the feelings putting her into a generally-good mood while the consequences of her refusal to move from her seat played out.

But soon enough she ran dry, the good feelings mostly replaced with the sensation of warm wetness on her butt and all over the backs of her thighs, the sound of excess urine still falling from her seat, and the unmistakable scent of a wolf’s markings. There would be quite a bit of cleaning to do before very long…

For now, though, Holo simply turned to Lawrence, not once deviating from the position he had been drawing her in, and spoke calmly. “Is the work complete yet, or not?”

“Well, actually…” The merchant took a moment to process the situation, responding just as calmly but clearly confused. “It just needs a little bit of finishing details, but… If you needed to go, why did you never just say so?”

“I promised to help you with your little project, did I not?” Holo turned back to face the window. “I will not go back on such a promise by cutting my participation short.” With a quick glance over at him again, she added in a more annoyed tone, “And I would remind you that it was _your_ project – you, as the artist, should have paid enough attention to your subject to offer some downtime yourself.”

“That doesn’t quite follow…”

“It may not seem so now, but you will understand. Now,” she said, “Do you plan to finish this portrait, or not?”


End file.
